


A Sunday Morning at Harvest

by TashanaAmbrosia



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Bulla is somehow cute and annoying at the same time, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gift Fic, Goten is so pure, M/M, Trunks is a good big brother, big brother feels, family thoughts, fluffy and soft, it's just fluffy, lives of half-saiyans, soft moments, sunday morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 10:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20113786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TashanaAmbrosia/pseuds/TashanaAmbrosia
Summary: It was supposed to be a quiet Sunday Morning but that's interrupted by growling half-Saiyan stomach and a locked door. Trunks goes to his favorite breakfast spot with his boyfriend and little sister in tow as he reflects on himself, his family, and a bit of his future.





	A Sunday Morning at Harvest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bitchytimemachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchytimemachine/gifts).

> Gifted to my dear friend in celebration of her latest success in life. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece. Thank you so much for being a positive, kickass, and encouraging light in my life.

**A Sunday Morning at Harvest**

“Trunks! Trunks, wake up.”

“What?!?” He growled, blinking at his younger sister, who was shoving his shoulder. 

Most kids would have jumped back or started crying at his graveled tone, but for Bulla anger was as much a sign of affection as a hug. She fidgeted from one foot to the other, “I’m hungry and Gramma’s not back ‘til ‘morrow.”

“So go wake up Mom or Pop.” He grumbled.

“Door’s locked, dat means I have to wait until they come out, ‘less it’s a ‘mergency. And your door’s open, 'cause Goten stayed the night.”

_ Well, she wasn’t wrong _ . Those were standing rules in the house: open doors meant you could come in and locked doors meant you had to wait, the latter rule being in place mostly to prevent mental trauma. Too bad his parents conveniently forgot that his rewards for a perfect semester were his boyfriend being allowed to crash here for the weekend _ and _ being allowed to sleep in. The aforementioned dark-haired boy was lying next to him still dead to the world, passed out on his stomach.

“Yeah, you’re right. Come ‘ere, Beauty B.” He hauled her up, resting her on his chest, hoping maybe he could trick her into falling back asleep. He rubbed her back for a few minutes, drawing slow steady breaths.

“Trrrrunks.” She whined, not falling for it. “I’m soooo hungry. Can we go fer pancakes at Harvest?”

He groaned; the last thing he wanted to do was actually get dressed and go out into public.

Bulla shoved his lavender hair away from his face and tried to force up his eyelids. He finally opened one eye, observing her infamous puppy dog eyes and pouty lower lip. “Preddy please.”

_ No way was he getting out of this _. He sighed, “Okay. Wake Goten up and we’ll go to Harvest.”

“Heeheehee.” She crawled over him and onto Goten’s back and ruffling his black hair with both hands of her hands as she whispered loudly in his ear. “Goten, Goten, Gooooooten. The sky’s awake, so we must awake!”

“Urrmmmmm. Why? Bulla, why?” Muttered Goten, as he rolled over, squishing the squealing girl between himself and Trunks. “I’m sooo sleepy. Five more minutes.”

“No, Goten, we gonna go ta Harvest for pancakes and eggs and bacon.” She squirmed as he tried to cover her back up with the blankets. “No,no,no! It’s time to get up.”

“What time is it?” Goten yawned.

“Way earlier than we planned. Sorry, my folks aren’t up yet.” Trunk apologized.

“S’okay.” Goten leaned over and kissed him, “Not the end of the world.”

“Me too! Sneak attacks for me too!!.” The five-year-old pipped up, giggling happily as they each kissed one of her cheeks. She loved to be the center of attention, good luck figuring out who she got that trait from.

Trunks forced himself out of bed, pulling the black jeans he’d left discarded on the floor over his boxers and slipping on one of his grey Capsule Corp shirts. “You can grab one of my shirts; yours probably smells like tequila.”

Goten chuckled, “I’m not the one who spilled it on me.”

“Whatever.” Trunks scoffed and held his arms out for his sister, “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

Bulla jumped off the bed and into her brother’s arms, “Why did you spill stuff on Goten?” 

“None-ya.” He tweaked her nose.

She stuck out her tongue but held onto him.

He wasn’t exactly hungover, but now that he was awake he needed coffee and calories. Goten had grown up drinking rice wine here and there for family parties, so he’d developed a tolerance on-top of his genes. His mother, on the other hand, had been surprising strict on alcohol, so embarrassingly he was a bit of a lightweight. Of course, she’d eased up on the alcohol restrictions after he’d told his folks about his relationship with Goten. Masochistically, he’d wondered if alcohol might have had something to do with his conception. _ Cringe. _

Ten minutes later, with Bulla dressed in rainbow leggings and a bright pink shirt announcing ‘Troublemaker’ written in black glitter, the trio started walking up the road.

“Can we fly?” Bulla looked up at both of them since she was walking between.

Trunks adjusted his sunglasses, “Is it an emergency? Or are we training?”

“No.” She huffed, knowing where this was going.

“Then both feet on the ground.”

“Ugh!!” She stamped her foot. “But, Trunks…”

“No buts, rules are rules.” He was not in the mood to argue with her, he was too tired and the caffeine withdrawal was starting to set in.

“I got ya.” Goten swept Bulla off the ground and tossed her in the air with an easy laugh. Instead of allowing herself to come back down the little girl hovered in mid-air, but Goten was just as quick catching her legs and setting her on his shoulders, “There you can fly like that.”

“No! Un-a-hand me a once! I am Princess of all da Saiyans! I demands you led me go.” Bulla shrieked.

“Nuh-uh you’re my prisoner now.” He held onto one of her legs and tickled her with his other hand. “You’re gonna have to surrender.”

“Never!” She squirmed and giggled even louder, trying in vain to escape. After a few more moments of fussing, she looked down at him, upside down, pigtails hanging down. “Goten?”

“Yes, Bulla?”

“I think, I wanna stay up here now.”

Goten gave Trunks a lopsided smile and linked their arms. “See nothing to it.”

“Say thank you, Bulla.” Trunk reminded.

“Thank you, Goten.”

The air was crisp, and if his sister wasn’t half-Saiyan he would have been worried that he didn’t put her in a jacket, but just like the rest of them, she ran hotter than a human. 

The Harvest was one of their normal breakfast spots, it was only two miles from his house and they were there often enough that the staff didn’t question their abnormally large orders.

Bulla chatted a little too loudly the whole way, while Goten egged her on. 

Trunks glanced at them out of the corner of his eye and smiled. The realization dawned on him that even outside of everything that he’d be blessed with because of who his family was, he had a good life. _ This was good _. He slipped his arm away from Goten and grabbed his hand purposefully entwining their fingers.

Goten arched his eyebrow but gave his hand a squeeze. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just ready for coffee and food.” He shrugged, not trusting himself to put what he was thinking into words.

“Me too. Well, the food part, I’ll skip the coffee.”

“Please, I know what you’re like on caffeine.”

“No worse than you on alcohol.” Goten bumped his hip against Trunks before putting Bulla back on the ground so they could get through the doorway.

The five-year-old raced across the entryway, “Rosie! Rosie!”

“Well good morning, Sugar. You and your brother here for breakfast?” The older waitress patted Bulla’s head, “Oh and you two’ve got company this morning. Just go grab that booth in the back that you like so much. You want me to put your to-go order in for when you leave, Handsome?”

“That would be great. Thanks, Rosie.” Trunks nodded and held his free hand out for his sister, “Come on, Beauty B.”

“You have a standing to-go order?” Goten snickered as they slid into the booth putting Bulla in the middle.

“Pop likes their pancakes. So, I do not come here without bringing food back.”

Bulla held up the menu, “Can I get chocolate-chip with strawberries on top?”

“You can get whatever you want to eat, but you have to get milk to drink.”

“Strawberry milk?”

He considered fighting with her about it, since strawberry syrup meant more sugar, but then again…not worth it. Plus, he wouldn’t be dealing with her later anyway. _ You’re welcome mom and dad _. “Sure.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here. What’s good?” Goten leaned back against the back of the booth as he read the menu over Bulla’s shoulder.

“Trunks likes the banana 'n' caramel pancakes.” She informed pointing out the pictures. “Some pancakes has whip cream on ‘em.”

“Those are waffles, not pancakes.” Trunks corrected.

Rosie took their orders and Trunk happily started his second cup of coffee after she brought out their first round of food. The restaurant wasn’t that busy this morning, but he kept feeling like someone was watching them, but he didn’t notice anyone specific. _ Fantastic, he was becoming paranoid _. His phone went off with a stock report and he went to read it, but Goten took his phone away from him.

“Be here. You said you wanted to unplug.” The dark-haired boy slipped the phone into his shirt pocket.

The annoyance Trunks felt got pushed into the background as he realized that Goten was wearing one of his favorite shirts. He’d been wearing that shirt the first time they’d...His cheeks tinged pink, but he distracted himself with another bite of his food, “Whatever, just surrender it if my mom texts me.”

“I’m not gonna risk her wrath. I’m just glad your dad didn’t blow me up when you told him about us.” Goten finished his third plate of pecan pancakes.

Trunks nodded and took another drink of his coffee. “I always thought your last name was gonna be our biggest hurdle, but he barely flinched. I think _ your _mom was the worst.”

“Go figure right?” Goten rolled eyes, “Half-breed problems, never sure who’s the one to worry about.”

“As long as we keep training one some level, I think we’ll be good on the Sayian side of things.”

Goten glanced at his own phone, “Dad’s focused on Pan anyway. Thinks she’s got more potential training with him.”

“Pan’s mean. She tugs my pigtails.” Bulla folded her arms over her chest.

Trunks paused knowing he should address his sister’s attitude, but he didn’t like how Goten dismissed himself so quickly. _ Sister first; shorter attention span _, “Bulla, Pan tugs your pigtails because you hit too hard when you spar. You have to control yourself better and be fair.”

“Papa, says there’s no fair in a fight.”

“But you’re not fighting with Pan, you’re sparring. Sparring is practice and practice is meant to be fair.”

“I guess,” She consented before muttering under her breath, “but Papa said I should hit hard as I can.”

“He means him, you can hit him as hard as you can.” Trunks resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Not everyone is like Papa.”

“Papa says I can hits you hard too.” She smirked. “Dat’s how we learn.”

“Just eat.”

Bulla peppered their conversation with her thoughts while Trunks tried to keep her focused on eating. He paid for breakfast, capsulizing the oversized to-go order before they started walking back opting to go through the park. Bulla raced in front of them occasionally lifting off the ground to examine an animal in a random tree.

“Two feet on the ground.” Trunk snipped, getting a tongue stuck out at him for his trouble, but she did listen. Goten’s elbow brushed his as they continued the leisurely pace side-by-side. It was still eating at him: Goten, dismissing himself with his own father so casually “You shouldn’t let your dad give up on you like that. I’m sure he thinks you’ve got plenty of potential.”

“Oh, he didn’t give up on me. He just knows how much time I spend out here with you and Vegeta. He figures, if I’m gonna train this is gonna be where I do it.” The younger boy caught a leaf as it fell from one of the trees but let it go just as fast. “He doesn’t give up on anyone.”

Trunks looked up at Goten, “I love that about your dad. He gives everyone a second chance, hell that’s why I even exist.”

Goten shoved his hands in his jean pockets, “Yeah, my dad’s got space in his heart for everyone. But I always thought your folks were just as good of an example of family.”

“My folks? My crazy folks?”

“Pretty sure my folks are just as crazy.” Goten chuckled, “Look, your dad’s a hard guy; he’s got room in his heart for like three-ish people and everyone else he just sorta tolerates. But when I think about how your folks are it always comes back to when Beerus and Whis showed up the first time.”

Trunks wasn’t sure where Goten was going with this. That day was certainly a day that stuck out to him, but to hear it from Goten’s point of view was interesting.

“See what everyone remembers is your dad’s crazy power-up, but that’s not what stood out to me…” Goten paused, as if trying to find the right words, “He gave up the advantage in the fight, begged to take the punishment for your mom and I can’t ever remember him willingly giving up the high ground.”

“I just couldn’t get over that he called her ‘My Bulma’ your dad still gives him hell for that.” Trunks forced a snicker as he tried to give his boyfriend an out if he wanted to take it.

But Goten still seemed to be working through his thoughts, “My dad acts the way he does because he doesn’t ever think he could possibly lose. He loves out loud because he doesn’t believe anything could ever beat him. It’s like...” He cleared his throat, “Vegeta plays everything close to the chest, I think, 'cause he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. You told me a little bit about the shit he went through and that changes a person – so I think he’s internal about loving you guys because he's scared someone will take you guys away from him.” He caught Trunks staring at him and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean…”

Trunks stopped them in the path and pushed himself up on tiptoe to brush his lips over Goten’s. “When did you get so smart?”

Goten grinned down at him. “Well, I am dating a genius. Had to up my game.”

“TRUNKS! GOTEN!” Bulla had rushed up to them, while they’d gotten distracted by each other.

“What?” Trunk disentangled himself and looked down at his sister. “You okay?”

“I have a questions.” She swayed from side to side, tugging on her shirt.

“Go for it.”

“You two can fuse and be Gotanks right?”

He arched his eyebrow, answering slowly, “Yeah,wh…”

“If you fused and made a baby with a lady, would it be both of your babies or neither of your babies?” Her blue eyes were filled with innocent curiosity.

“Ba...I…”Trunks choked and nearly fell over as his face flushed red instantly, “Um… wha…um…”

Goten knelt down in front of Bulla, “Hey B.”

“What? I wanna know.” She folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyebrows.

“Well sure, but doesn’t that sound like a science question?” Goten offered.

“Yeah.”

“Who’s the best person to ask science questions to?”

“My mommy!” Her face lit up clearing approving of the new plan, “Oh I should ask her instead. Thanks, Goten.” She resumed her skipping ahead and spinning in the falling leaves as if the inquiry had never been made.

“When we have kids we’re adopting. No genius-level questions at five.”

“We’re having kids?”

“Umm. Not like…I meant…”

“I’m messing with ya. Don’t sweat it.” Goten shoved Trunks’ shoulder affectionately. “You know that was my mom’s only hang-up about us. Worried about not having more grandkids. We’ve got time for all of that and a wish-granting dragon, or Bulla's idea of the whole Gotanks thing."

Trunks rolled his eyes, "I'm begging you not to never bring that up again."

"Relax, I'm kidding. We don't need to rush anything, and your folks didn’t have you until they were older and then Bulla…”

“Don’t finish that sentence my mother will materialize and murder you for daring to mention her age.”

Goten let out one of his loud full laughs, the one that never failed to make Trunks smile. The dark-eyed half-Saiyan, doubled over he as he struggled to catch his breath, and Trunks started to chuckle along. “It wasn’t that funny.”

“It kinda is. Just imagining her Instant-Transmissioning here and outright killing me for an age joke is hilarious, especially because your dad would…”

“Trunks?” Bulla was holding some leaves in her hands, “Can I bring these home?”

“Yeah, I don’t care.” Trunks shrugged not seeing the harm.

The little girl yawned, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. “Trunks?”

“What?” He had a feeling he knew what his sister’s next question would be.

“Can you carry me back?”

He feigned a long-suffering sigh and picked her up, “Sure, Beauty B, I gotta ya.”

Goten had finally recovered from his laughing fit and they continued on their way back to Capsule Corp. The breeze picked up a bit and Bulla snuggled closer to him as she dozed off. Trunks tried to shield her from the wind, he should have put her in a jacket.

He didn’t think about other people has much as he had before Bulla was born. He wanted his little sister to be happy and more importantly, be safe. He’d slacked in his training for a while, devoting more of his time to his education and just generally being distracted, but being a big brother had changed him. His father had been noticeably shocked when he asked to start training with him for at least an hour a day when he was home, but Vegeta had agreed. Trunks thought he was actually proud of him for refocusing. He hoped so anyway.

Trunks wasn’t his father any more than Goten was his, but the two of them made a pact, no matter what they would make sure that the Earth was safe and that meant getting ready for threats.

“Gohan should have another kid.”

“You wanna have the talk with him and Videl, be my guest.”

“It would be good for Pan. My folks having Bulla was good for me. I’m less of a brat.”

“I don’t think you were that bad.”

“I was and still am a spoiled brat.”

“You’re too hard on yourself. Mom wouldn't let him date ya, if you were a hooligan.”


End file.
